


Returns

by nesrynfaliq



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Domesticity, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, post queen of shadows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 12:44:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6520237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nesrynfaliq/pseuds/nesrynfaliq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>based on a kiss prompt for Chaol/Nesryn - Upside Down kiss, Nesryn returns home after a long mission away from Rifthold and finds Chaol having fallen asleep waiting for her to come home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Returns

When she slips silently into the rooms they share, his rooms on paper, their rooms in practice, the sound of his slow, deep breathing fills the space. In spite of the lateness of the hour and the harrowing trip she’s just endured and returned from, she can’t help the faint half smile that creases her lips at the sight of him.

There’s a book, still open at the last page he was reading, on his chest, rising and failing in time with his rhythmic breathing. She recognises it at once, a favourite of his, one he’s read countless times before, one that she’s seen him read countless times before, one he’s read passages of to her in the quiet moments they manage to steal in the midst of the chaos of the war that’s become their lives.

Despite the care and attention he’s doubtless lavished upon it, it’s been read so often by him that the cover is worn and faded, the once stiff spine loose and obliging. It’s a book he takes from the shelf when he wishes to lose himself in something entirely, treating it more like an old friend he visits from time to time, for refuge and comfort from a harsh reality or simply to pass a slow moving hour or two, than a simple novel.

Gently lifting it she carefully marks his page and returns it to its proper place on the bookshelf before she moves back to him, kneeling down behind him, resting her arms on the worn couch on either side of his head.

Still he sleeps on, undisturbed by her presence and she takes a moment to savour the calm moments she’s being allowed with him, when they can be quiet and peaceful and content and simply be with one another and enjoy the time that they’re given to just be them; two people slowly falling in love rather than pieces caught up in the war that’s enfolding their continent in its cold black arms.

Leaning over him she presses light kisses to his lips, again and again, until he starts to stir and wake. Then she lets her kisses linger more as his mouth recognises the feel and taste of hers and he begins to respond to her.

“Mm, Nesryn?” he mumbles sleepily, not opening his eyes though he lifts himself a few inches off of his cushions and breathes her in, his lips seeking out hers again.

She obliges him with another kiss, longer and slower than the ones that have gone before it and drags her fingers slowly through his hair as she asks, voice husky, “Do you have another secret lover who wakes you with kisses that I should know about?”

Drawing away slightly, fingers still in his hair, she lightly kisses his forehead as he finally opens his eyes and a glimmer of amusement flits through her own as she registers his confusion at her being upside down above him, a fact that his still sleep-sodden brain requires a moment to process and understand.

Coming to terms with this he lifts himself up higher still, “Only you,” he breathes, his eyes fully alert and full of a warm hunger that softens her as he reaches up and back, his fingers sliding through her sleek black hair, coaxing her back to him for another kiss.

She can’t refuse him, can’t seem to stop kissing him and she doesn’t think she’ll ever want to. It’s become as simple and thoughtless as breathing, kissing him. They had both been so stupid for so long, so stubborn and so conflicted, denying what they felt, what they wanted, what they _needed_ , refusing to open themselves up, to be vulnerable, to drop their walls and just let the other in.

Now...Well now her mouth insists they make up for lost time and she finds herself wholeheartedly agreeing with it. Repeatedly.

“What time is it?” he asks finally, when they stop kissing long enough for him to speak.

“Late,” she informs him helpfully. His reprimand for her vague response is lost in another kiss and before he can find the words she adds a reprimand of her own and interrupts that thought, “I told you not to wait up for me.”

“I didn’t. I was asleep,” he points out innocently.

She just stares down at him, unimpressed, though her fingers still stroke his short hair even as she deadpans, “You tried,” her tone daring him to challenge her or try to protest.

To his credit he does neither, he only tries to prop himself up a little higher on the sagging ancient sofa. Noticing him struggling to twist around to her she pads sleekly around to the front of the couch to make it easier for him.

Reaching down he lightly takes her hand in his, his thumb absently, mindlessly, stroking her tan skin, “I missed you,” he breathes quietly to her, his voice all softness and warmth, devoid of any trace of the blunt playfulness they had shared only a moment ago.

“I missed you too,” she admits quietly, tucking her legs up under her, and nestling in closer to him, her head on his chest, allowing him to tangle his fingers through her dark hair once again. Rising up on her knees after a moment or two of sitting in companionable silence, she kisses him once more, intimately, trying to convey things she can’t find words for, things that she never seems to be able to find the words for but perhaps he understands because he pulls her in even closer to him, deepening the kiss, simultaneously making it harder and more intense but also softening them, making it personal and tender.

When at last they break apart she gently rubs noses with him, eliciting a soft smile from him. Standing, she helps him to his feet and supports him into their bedroom, letting him lean on her in the absence of his cane, conscious of how stiff and sore his leg must be after having fallen asleep in such an awkward position on the sofa.

They dress for bed, Nesryn keeping half an eye on him as they do so, then climb into bed together. As she takes her place nestled against him, her head on his chest, her long black hair fanning out over his bare skin, she realises just how much she had hated sleeping alone in the cold, empty bed without him this past week. She savours the warmth that seeps from him into her and presses in even closer to him than usual, which he responds to by wrapping his arm more tightly around her shoulders and drawing her in as though he too is realising how much he’s missed her in her absence.

Closing his eyes as he gently kisses the top of her head, already able to feel the exhaustion seeping into her brain like fog creeping in land from the sea, she mumbles a faint, “Night, Chaol,” and hears it echoed back from him to her, “Goodnight, Nesryn,” before they drift off to sleep in one another’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! ^_^


End file.
